Three Years of Birthdays
by Flavato Forever
Summary: One-shot: the three years that the U.N.C.L.E. family has a joint birthday party, and all the gifts that are exchanged.


All three agents of U.N.C.L.E. have birthdays that fall in late February. It's a lovely coincidence, Gaby says; they can have joint parties. And, even though Illya initially grumbles about KGB agents not having _parties_ , birthdays grow to be very special in their little U.N.C.L.E. family.

I.

The first year of their partnership, Gaby and Illya plan for weeks what to get Napoleon. It is an adventure, seeing as the man can pretty much steal anything he wants for himself. They eventually decide to go for a joke: Illya buys a Soviet flag (hard to come by, west of the Iron Curtain) and an American flag, and Gaby sews them together into a blanket. Napoleon laughs when he opens it, really laughs, like his partners haven't ever seen him do before.

For Illya, Gaby and Napoleon get a new pair of dress shoes as an apology. A few weeks earlier, the only transportation option on the way back to base from a mission was a single motorcycle, big enough for two people. They'd drawn straws to see who would have to walk, and Illya had lost. His best shoes – which he had worn in a futile attempt to gain entry into their target's black-tie party – were ruined in the mud. When Illya unwraps the box, Napoleon makes a snide comment about his fashion sense, and the Russian smacks his partner's chest. But Illya continues to wear the shoes until the soles wear thin, and Gaby sees him smile slightly every time he puts them on.

For the little German girl, perhaps least likely of all to end up on their team, Napoleon and Illya argue. Clothing won't do, as neither man will concede to the other's style choice. Despite having worked together for months, they know little about what kinds of books Gaby likes to read, what genres of music interest her. Finally, they pick the one thing they can agree upon: a plain silver necklace. It isn't gaudy enough to be considered either Napoleon's or Illya's style, so neither man feels emasculated by the choice. And Gaby loves it – not because she is particularly interested in jewelry (mechanics never are), but because, when she opens it, she sees, for perhaps the first time ever, both her partners' faces crinkle in delight at the same time.

II.

The next year, everyone knows everyone else a bit better, and the gifts reflect this. Gaby, over the course of several American-based missions, discovers that Napoleon hasn't spoken to his mother since he enlisted in the military. As an international criminal, sure, you can't be calling home to mother every weekend. But, Gaby finds out, after he was caught, part of his deal with the CIA was no contact with his family, no mention of his past. So Gaby and Illya work tirelessly for weeks, making connections, finding phone numbers, and, the night before their party, they reveal: they've hooked up a secure line, and Napoleon will be able to talk to his mother for forty minutes. Longer, and the CIA will tap the call to see why on Earth a spy's mother is on the phone with a caller from Venezuela. Napoleon doesn't laugh at this gift; instead he stares at his partners for two full minutes, and then hugs Gaby and kisses Illya on the cheek, of all things. If Illya didn't know better, he would swear that he sees tears welling up in the American's eyes.

Gaby convinces Napoleon to break the rules slightly for Illya's gift. They aren't allowed to have any pictures together, just in case their safe houses are ever compromised. They still take pictures, though. It is a fun exercise, even knowing they will burn the film when it is used. Napoleon, though, manages to steal and develop one roll from Illya's camera. Gaby makes a photo album of their mission in Sydney, but cuts out her and Napoleon's face from every picture, leaving only Illya standing with two headless companions. When Illya opens this gift, he doesn't speak. He just looks slowly through every picture, and when he finishes, he thanks Gaby and Illya, saying it is the first photo album he has ever had.

Napoleon picked up Gaby's gift on a mission in Berlin and, as he saw it, graciously allowed Peril to piggy-back. It had been risky, after all, acquiring the thing, and the Russian hadn't done anything but stand guard. (Ask Illya, of course, and you'd get quite a different story.) The men can't agree on how to wrap it – bright-colored gift bag or plain brown wrapping paper? – and eventually just tape it inside a box and call it good enough. Gaby opens it curiously, and bursts into tears when she sees what it is: her favorite wrench from her old life, rusted from cheap gasoline and the pervasive humidity of a mechanic shop. _You're not in the chop-shop anymore, Gaby_ , Napoleon reminds her, _but, hell, it might make a pretty handy weapon sometime._ She carries it with her everywhere, from then on.

III.

For the third year of U.N.C.L.E., everyone pulls out all the stops on the gifts – but no one has the chance to give them. Instead, Napoleon sacrifices his American/Soviet blanket, trying to create enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Gaby uses the wrench she got the year before to kill the intruder that had infiltrated the safe house. They can't give Illya his birthday gifts, but they give him everything else: all they can remember from every first aid class they'd ever attended, all the emergency protocols they snoozed through at their meetings with Waverly, all the love their little misfit family can offer.

It's all they have, but it's not enough. The blanket soaks through with Illya's blood. The death-blow from the wrench comes one gunshot too late. The joint party ends abruptly; a funeral takes its place.

Neither Napoleon nor Gaby will get their gifts that year. Illya had wrapped both gifts himself, and the pair could not bear to rip up the last of his handiwork.

Inside Illya's casket, though, there are two gifts. For the first time ever, Gaby insisted on getting separate presents for the Russian. Napoleon buries his friend with the photo album from the year before. Tucked inside, at the very end, though, is his gift for this year, perhaps the object he is most proud to have pilfered in his lifetime: a picture from Illya's childhood of his whole family, before it was torn apart by embezzlement and prostitution. He stole it from the archives of a Soviet government office three weeks before, on a rare three-day vacation in between missions. He had told his partners that he was going to the beach to work on his tan.

And Gaby, just before the coffin is closed, the light shut on Illya forever, places an ultrasound shot of her baby in the crook of his father's elbow.


End file.
